


World's okayest biologist

by Lovebirdie



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Bucky's swearing is on Deadpool's level, Comedy, Crack, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Love/Hate, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Teacher Bucky Barnes, Teacher Steve Rogers, and who can pull off those cringy shirts with biology puns on them better, basically stucky fight over who's the better teacher, clint mutters 'I'm too old for this shit' under his breath as shit goes downhill, everyone's a little bit crazy, seriously it's more crack than anything sry, sorry but this story is already consuming my time and mind, warning: lots of swearing!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7972672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovebirdie/pseuds/Lovebirdie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally finished with his biology studies, James Buchanan Barnes takes on teaching at a local high school. Aside from bickerings with his bestie Natasha, he doesn't think there will be much action going on in his life from now on. His theory gets proven wrong just on the first day when a man with a biceps that he would kill for gets into his sight.</p><p>And worst of all, he's wearing the same damn shirt as him. But only Bucky is the 'World's okayest biologist'.<br/>There can only be one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	World's okayest biologist

"How did the interview go?"

"Wasn't exactly an interview, but I can't complain. I mean, it's not like I haven't gotten the job already."

"Did you survive Fury or did Fury survive you?"

"Go to hell."

"Already here. Make yourself at home, Buck!"

"How nice of you, Nat.”

My feet were already tired, my throat too dry and my hands still sweating from the principal's questioning just now. As I looked around the staff room, I noticed what Nat had meant just now. There wasn't anything attention-catching in this room except a flashy pink coffee machine.

“Where’s my desk?” I asked, looking around the teachers’ lounge for any signs with my name on it. Someone else’s would’ve done it too, after all I just wanted to finally sit my ass down after that nerve-wracking job interview. As if my initial interview a few weeks ago wasn’t enough already, no, the principal wanted to see me again right before my first school day because, well, apparently he had yet to ask crucial information about me. Not a big problem though, I’m used to being forgotten about – and by that I mean that the barista at Starbucks fucks my name up on a regular basis. Not to sound pitiful or anything, but who manages to write ‘Bucky’ wrong? I’m damn convinced that I’m an exclusive in this world.

Just like Fury, Natasha was more interested in certain crucial information than my overall well-being. “So, he didn’t even ask you about that one year you wasted for the sake of trying to open a comic shop?”

“Told him I was taking care of my dying grandma.”

“And those… ‘dancing classes’ you have insisted on writing in your CV?”

“Legit normal dancing classes. Got a bud to fake me the papers. So don’t ever bring up that I was learning pole dancing, although I’m still _hella_ proud of my skills.”

“You’re a horrible person, Buck.”

“But a wonderful liar. Now, my table, please. Since Fury didn’t tell me anything apart from the room number.” I swear I had been able to make out fruit ninja pictured on the phone in his lap. That would explain why he thought that the introduction of a new employee wasn’t really that important.

“Yeah, yeah, go to that one over there.” She pointed to a table which was just beside hers. Just as I wanted heaved my bag on it and wanted to sit down, I noticed a brown leather jacket draped over it. “Is that yours?” I asked my friend, not touching the piece of clothing.

“No. That’s Steve’s table. Right beside mine. But he’s currently in class, so it doesn’t matter. We have to wait until Clint arrives, since he’s the only one with a key to the storage room. You’ll get your own desk then.”

“Are you sure that I can sit here in the meantime? I don’t want any trouble on my first day.” Steve. The name itself sounded uptight. But since Natasha apparently was on a first name basis with the guy, it had to be someone around our age and not one of those typical, retired professors. At least his jacket had style. Plain, but stylish.

“That doesn’t sound like you at all. Not voluntarily getting into trouble, I mean.”

“Those times are over. I’m a new man, a new me!“

“By ‘a new you’ I assume that you stopped carrying that stuffed Batman in your bag.” And before I knew it, she snagged latter thing. I immediately panicked, either because someone was about to get a look into the most accurate representation of my soul or because my little Bruce would soon be discovered and touched by someone other than me.

“Fucking give it back!”

“Language, you’re a teacher.” Having found the plushy, she eyed it like a bug that’s about to get crushed. A smirk on her face. “Yeah, I guess I have to get a little Poison Ivy too or I can’t call myself a real teacher.”

I had to take a deep breath. “No.” Simple as that.

With a heartfelt laugh, she let the stuffed toy glide back into the bag and handed my property back to me. I almost ripped it out of her hands. “This has never happened.”

“Of course not, tiger.”

“Hey, just to name the possibility: What if someone has been listening to our premature quarreling ever since the beginning of it?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Barnes. I’m pretty sure we started fighting the moment we saw each other years ago and never got a break since then.”

“True love indeed, but that doesn’t answer it. My reputation could already be ruined and my first period didn’t even start yet!”

“Relax, the teens will love you.” There was a bit of an awkward silence and a questioning, nervous look from my side, before she added: “Either because you’re a good teacher or because you would be the first one to nuke the school if given the opportunity to.”

“ _Hell_ yeah.”

“Remember, no workplace means no money.”

“Please don’t remind me.” It was then that I realized to what this conversation drifted off to again. “Wait a minute, I thought we had agreed that I’m a mature, stern teacher now!”

“You agreed with yourself, not me.”

A little sigh of frustration left my lips. “Fine, fine. I get it. Your view of me is already so fucked up that I won’t get the polite Nat.”

“Affirmative.”

“I still don’t get why anyone would voluntarily be an English teacher.”

“Says the one whose cereals are chromosome-shaped.”

I was just about to fire an embarrassing fact about her back as the door opened.

“Heard someone talking about chromosomes?”

The gentle, baritone voice belonged to a paper-cutout from Men’s Health: Broad shoulders, narrow waist, sandy blond hair parted to the right and a face that made me question my sexuality. And the fucker just had to wear a shirt that showed his biceps off. V-neck. My ultimate weakness. Fuck. No, fuck him.

Collecting the last bits of dignity I had left, I turned to face the stranger as he walked towards us. Just when I was about to demonstrate what a hot voice I had to offer myself, Natasha had to ruin the moment.

“In case you didn’t hear it, he has chromosome-shaped cereals for breakfast. He’s our new colleague.”

“Oh, that best friend you talked about?”

“The one and only.”

I gave Nat my trademarked assassin look. “Can talk for myself.” Then I extended a hand out to the stranger, various pick-up lines already floating around in my head. _‘Men’s Health called, they miss their cover model’_ followed by my address.

I managed to settle for the most normal thing possible. “James Buchanan Barnes, pleased to meet you.” He shook my hand with a nice, gentle smile. “Steven Rogers, the biology teacher here. But I guess I’m not alone anymore.”

My internal alarms went off because of two different reasons. First, he was that Steve whose place I had claimed just now. Second, another biology teacher was more of a competition than a fellow co-worker to me.

“What’s your field, if I may ask?” I had to come on good terms with him for now.

“I’m a certified microbial and cellular biologist. You, James?”

“Please call me Bucky, no one actually calls me by my real name. And I’m more into genetics.”

“Bucky it is. Genetics, interesting. That would have been my second choice. How familiar are you with neurobiology?”

“It was a pain to learn, but definitely worth it. More research could offer endless possibilities, that’s what’s fascinating me.”

“You’re not the only one. I’m glad you think like that too, it’s hard to find anyone willing to actually deal with the matter, teacher or not.”

Just when I opened my mouth to keep the conversation going, because hell, intelligence and shared interests are actually pretty attractive for me, Nat interrupted our conversation. “Best friends already? I mean, you’re even sharing a table.”

Have I ever mentioned that she was most likely a witch in her past life? She’s got red hair for a reason.

Steve looked to his table, noticed what she meant but seemed to connect the dots. He smiled it off. “That’s not a problem, not at all.” Just then, the bell rang, indicating the end of the period and the start of the break. Steve must have ended the lesson earlier. “Clint should be here soon. I’m going to tell him to open the storage room for us.” He added.

“Thank you very much, Steve.” I smiled at him in the most homosexual way possible, because _hell_ was I going to miss out on this opportunity. If I weren’t bisexual already, the guy would have most likely thrown me into an identity crisis because of the gay butterflies his voice alone gave me. And have I mentioned his smile? Way too often, probably.

He gave me a polite nod, a mandatory ‘you’re welcome’ and then strolled over to his desk to sort some papers from and into his files. At first I stood there awkwardly, and then decided to ask Natasha if I could help her with her own paperwork. “You better sort your own; class 2-B is a hard one. By the time you’ve handed out your worksheets, half of them will have already faced the fate of becoming paper planes.”

“Sounds just like my thing.”

“Take it easy on them.”

It was then that Steve looked up from his papers. “Another thing, as long as the room’s this empty, do you guys mind if I change quickly?”

Oh snap. Shit. _Holy fucktrumpets_. First day and already this lucky.

I eagerly shook my head while Natasha did the talking for me: “Go ahead, we won’t watch.”

Steve grinned and then I realized that I should probably face the wall now. Shit. Well, there’s always that corner-of-the-eyes trick.

“Thanks, you know, I’ve got 4-A coming up and they gave me a shirt for last year’s graduation. They insisted on me wearing it for the following year and well, it has become kind of a habit.” While telling us, he pulled his shirt over his head and took his time to open the other one before changing into it.

If his biceps was Luke Hemsworth, then damn, his abs were _Liam_ Hemsworth.

But the worst of all was his shirt. To be exact, the print on it.

“You’re not even the ‘World’s okayest biologist’“ I blurted out, “because that’s me.” With quick motions, I took my jacket off. Flashing on a whole new level: I was wearing the same damn shirt, plum-coloured though. Still. The print was the thing that counted.

I was fucking triggered. For years I’ve thought my special collection of shirts with biology-related prints on them was individual and made me stand out and live up to what the shirt promised, and now this guy comes along and thinks he can pull the style off better than me. Admittedly, his damn biceps looked nice in green. But that was about it.

He seemed to take it lightly and chuckled. “I’m afraid I won’t give that title up soon, since my last class gave me this shirt at their graduation. I’ve been quite proud of the title.”

“I’ve studied years to wear that title with pride.”

“I’ve endured countless pranks from students to be called that.”

“There can only be one...” I hissed, way too fumed up.

“Buck, calm down. You’ve just met each other.”

“He’s just joking, right, Bucky?” Steve’s good mood only started to decrease now as he noticed that this might just be a serious argument. I glared in response.

“Shirt off. Now.”

And Natasha just had to fucking whistle. Steve ignored it, though, stood up and faced me with his arms crossed.

Just a few centimeters too tall.

“Quit that childish act. Wear your jacket and us two wearing the same shirt won’t be that embarrassing anymore.”

“Oh, so having something in common with the newbie is embarrassing for you?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, but if you keep this up, yes.”

“Eat my ass.”

“Language.”

No, seriously. I want him to eat my ass. Or at least _wanted_ to.

“Don’t tell me what to do. I don’t even know you.”

“Well, I wanted to get to know you but seems like you’re more interested in criticizing someone else’s choice of clothing!”

“Dammit, it’s not the shirt itself but the fact that you actually think you’re better than me just because you’re into cells and shit!”

“Never said that, but now that you say it, you’re right: Genetics could never be as interesting as Microbial and Cellular-“

“Big words and nothing big behind that, am I right?”

“Did you just-“

“Hell yeah I did.”

It was then that Natasha spoke up for the first time. “He loves dick jokes, let him be, Steve.” Now _that_ was my girl.

“The level of immaturity in this room is overwhelming. Even 3-C has better manners than this man here!”

“I’m only defending my pride in my language, asshat. Back to the topic, you didn’t even take a closer look at Genetics and still claim to know that it’s boring? Who’s immature now?”

“Still you, because research about stem cells could lead to us being able to heal illnesses and help humans reproduce body parts or grow them entirely with stem cells.”

“But being able to change DNA could lead to those illnesses not even surfacing!”

“Stem cell therapy takes priority! Think of all the disabled people!”

“Change of genetic material does! What about those that are born with diseases and disabilities at this very moment? And you call yourself the world’s okayest biologist?!”

“Do and will always.”

My workday hasn’t even begun yet and I was already seeking trouble with the first workmate that I’ve encountered. On top of that, the only one to share my subject. Showing even more of my inability to have competition or accept opinions differing from my own could let this relationship go even further downhill and I would never get my hands on that beautiful biceps, ever. At least not with his consent.

But would that stop me? _No_.

“There can only be one. And that’s _fucking_ me!”

**Author's Note:**

> Lil warning: I've got no idea of school systems so I just made some classes up. And while I actually took biology for two extra years, I've slept through most of it so please overlook any mistakes, whoops. + English isn't my first language.
> 
> So basically I googled shirts with biology prints on them and got the cringiest results ever. Then I thought to myself 'heeey, why not write a story about two teachers being damn proud of their cringy shirt collection until they notice that the other biology teacher aka their competition is wearing the exact same shirt one day? What if they compete to have the best shirt after that?' And bam, this happened.  
> I get the title and chapter titles from the shirts that google shows me. Have fun cringing at future titles. If you want to know the content of the next chapters, just google for biology shirts and you can imagine the rest.
> 
> I'll try to update regularly, so I hope you'll stick with me!


End file.
